Untouchable
by nelliesbones
Summary: People say love is not tangible. Once upon a time, this had scared her, but tonight, she found solace in it. It was the one thing nobody could take away from them... Episode tag for "The Corpse in the Canopy". Spoilerfree, warm-hearted and M for a reason.


_Episode tag for "The Corpse in the Canopy" because, wow, hell yes, that was bloody awesome!_

UNTOUCHABLE

It could have been her.

The dead one, the fugitive one, the drugged one – whatever. Once in another lifetime, he had been a gambler, but even the dices hadn't been as unpredictable as this guy. Pelant. The name tasted like poison on Booth's tongue, bitter and foul.

It could have been her.

The guy with the boyish face – oh, well, it probably wasn't that boyish anymore, was it? – had already taken her away from him once, her and the baby, and as soon as he had laid eyes on Angela's and Hodgins' hellish bed decoration, Booth's blood had frozen in his veins.

It could have been her.

He had seen the terror in his friends' eyes, knew it firsthand. Knew how it felt. The predator creeping into your home. Making you his prey. A tainted nursery, stolen privacy. Eyes that did not belong there, that shouldn't be there; watching you, watching her, watching the little one.

It could have been her.

He wanted to hug her, all the time, so badly, but Booth was afraid that, if he had her in his arms, he wouldn't be able to let her go ever again. Was afraid that he'd grab her and take her and Christine on a long and impromptu road trip. Somewhere, anywhere, elsewhere. But... she'd already been there, hadn't she?

No, running wasn't an option. Hiding her in his arms, under a blanket or in a pocket universe wasn't an option, either.

All that remained was keeping your eyes open. Think. Think. Think. Trust no one (except for her and the squints) and, most definitely, don't trust a machine (except for the prehistoric kind).

How long could they live like that? How long would it take them to let their guard down once again? How long would it take _him_ to strike back?

The next time, it could be her...

-BONES-

Cradling his sleeping daughter against his chest, Booth climbed the stairs. Brennan was walking beside him, reluctant to be alone as well.

"Isn't it funny... Last week our biggest problem was that Christine couldn't do peek-a-boo," he mused.

"She can do it now."

"I know... But that's not-"

"Booth... I know what you're talking about."

Her voice was melodic and soothing as always, the baby warm and heavy in his arms. Why do you always recognize how damn perfect things are when you're on the brink of losing them? Why do you need a glimpse of hell to see heaven?

"Bones... I don't really care if you're over-competitive and smartass-y at times."

The familiar touch of her hand on his arm.

"Don't do that."

Slowing down, he blinked, not even trying to pretend he didn't know what she was talking about.

"Don't say things just because you're afraid you won't be able to say them anymore. I'm here, Booth. We're here. I will never ever leave you again, do you hear me?"

He shook his head, stroking his daughter's soft cheek with one finger.

"Oh, you would, Bones. You would always leave me to protect Christine, and," he swallowed hard, "and that's okay."

Inside, he died a little bit saying this, but it was true nonetheless. Her fingers curled around his arm, and he finally turned his head, finding her beautiful eyes shimmering with tears.

"That will never happen again. Being without you... it hurts. I was alone for most of my life, Booth, and I didn't feel lonely. But being without you... it makes me lonely. I will never leave you again."

One single tear pearled down her cheek, and his chest ached for her; ached for both of them.

"The next time we have to keep a low profile? I'm running with you."

Sniffling, she brushed the tear away.

"We're not running anymore. We're staying, we're outsmarting him and we're winning."

They had reached Christine's room, and Booth leaned in, pressing his lips to Brennan's temple for the briefest moment.

"That's the hyper-competitive woman I fell in love with," he murmured, and finally a weak smile curved up her lips.

Leaning against the wall, Brennan watched how he bent down, putting the child in her crib. Christine turned around in sleep, hugging her purple unicorn, and Booth tucked her in gently.

"Sweet dreams, little girl."

Turning around to her mother, he opened his arms.

"Come here."

And without hesitation, she came, flinging herself into his arms. He caught her safely, lifting her, and she wrapped her legs around his hips.

"Booth," she murmured, her head nestling in the crook of his neck, her warm breath caressing his skin.

His hold on her tightened just a bit, and then he started to walk with her in his arms. She was a lot of things, this woman he loved, but he knew that she was neither fragile nor petite. Her bones were sturdy, her heart stubborn. Tonight, however, there was something about the way she clung to him that reminded him of how frail life truly was.

Reminded him of how damn easily everything could shatter.

A full moon was hanging over the city, as he put her down in the middle of their bed. The silvery light illuminated her skin, giving her an almost ethereal glow. Crawling above her, Booth pushed a few strands of dark hair aside, tucking them behind her ear.

"I'm scared," he finally admitted, and, closing her arms around his neck, she pulled him down, wrapping him into her embrace.

"I know. Me too."

They were lying like this for a while, absorbing each other's warmth, each other's comfort. He could feel her heart thumping so close to his, could feel the softness of her hair tickling his face, could smell her very own scent. A sigh left his chest, and he rolled around, taking her with him.

"I'm crushing you."

Raising one hand, she traced his face, fingertips whispering over lines and the signs of times.

"No, you weren't."

Settling back against the pillows, he cradled her in his arms.

"I won't let him touch you," he promised. "Won't let him touch Christine or anyone else."

"Booth... We can handle it. We always do," she repeated, and he chuckled silently.

"Do you have faith, Bones?"

"Yes," she stated calmly. "You taught me so."

His face turned serious once more.

"I love you."

Vulnerability crashed into joy, as she lifted her head, seeking his mouth. His lips were as full as the moon, but warmer, his kiss as familiar as the next breath. Her body stirred, opened for him, and his tongue slipped between her lips, kissing her intimately.

Their breaths mingled in the quiet room, filling the night with hope.

Brennan shifted in his arms, tugging at his dark shirt, and soon, his chest was bare for her to touch. She admired the play of muscles underneath his bronze skin, admired his sheer strength; had to kiss him again. Kissing him was addictive, and if it hadn't been for his kiss, she might have been strong enough to leave his bed again, the night that Vincent had died. Kissing him had been her downfall... and her biggest luck.

He was nibbling her lip, kissing the corners of her mouth, encouraging her tongue to play with his. His taste was almost too pure for all the evil that had happened today, and his fingers combed her hair, massaging her scalp. Booth was a good man, kind at heart, and sometimes Brennan was still convinced that he was too good for her. She didn't scrutinize it anymore, though, was done scrutinizing it once and for all. He wanted her? He had her.

Once and for all.

Leaving her lips, he trailed open-mouthed kisses along her jawline, and she inhaled deeply, as he sucked her earlobe into his mouth, as he bit lightly.

"Booth..."

A soft hum was her answer, and then his hands slipped under the hem of her shirt, evoking goosebumps. His caress lingered on the small of her back for a while, fingernails grazing her skin, and her lips fell to his neck, sucking gently.

Eventually, one hand followed the curve of her hip to her ass, and he pushed one of his legs between hers. Through the fabric of their pants, Booth could feel her heat, and he inhaled a shuddered breath, as she ground against him.

She was soft, so soft, always soft.

Burying his face in her hair, he swallowed hard.

"Bones..."

She wriggled in his arms, pulling the shirt over her head. Following her lead, he reached for their pants, undoing first her buttons and then his own. Moments later, they were skin to skin, nothing but their underwear separating them. In the paleness of the room, he noticed that her bra and panties were mismatched, and something in his chest burst with relief because it was so ordinary.

Bending down, he kissed the tender patch of skin right between her breasts, inhaling her sweet scent. She moaned softly, and he turned his head a few inches, caressing her full curves with his lips. Through the thin fabric of her bra, he could feel her nipples budding, and her fingers flew to his head, tousling his hair.

"Yes," she gasped, and his belly tightened in anticipation.

More...

Pushing her onto her back and lowering the cups of her bra happened in one instant, and she cried out, as his lips closed around naked flesh; as his tongue rasped over the sensitive peak.

"More..."

One hand joined in, fondling the breast he wasn't kissing, and he could have done this for ages, but then her fingers dove into his boxers, wrapping around his hard shaft.

"Oh God..."

On a will of their own, his hips rocked forward into her touch, and she smiled.

"You were saying?"

Squeezing one breast, he sought her lips for a scorching kiss.

"Nothing you weren't thinking, Baby."

His callous thumb circled her areola, and she arched her back.

"Oh..."

Her breasts were humming with need and, down there, he was hot and firm in her palm. A surge of longing flooded her belly. Perfect man... _her_ perfect man. Using both hands, she pushed the boxers down his hips, freeing him from the superfluous garment. Wriggling once more, she tried to do the same with her own panties, but he was already sliding down her body, peppering a line of kisses over her belly.

"Let me."

His voice caressed her as much as his lips, and he stilled just below her navel, licking the sensitive skin around her bellybutton. A wave of heat fogged her senses – but in a good way, in a very, very good way – and she spread her legs for him.

The first touch of his lips was merely a whisper, the shadow of a caress, and a sound close to a whimper left her lips. Raising one hand, he traced the damp spot between her legs with one fingertip, rubbing boldly, and she really wanted to get rid of those panties.

"Booth..."

He kissed the smooth insides of her thighs and nodded before hooking his thumbs under the waistband of her underwear and pulling it down. And her thighs fell open.

Brennan wasn't a modest person, and she most definitely wasn't in bed. It was one of the many things that Booth really, really liked about her. Lowering his head, he kissed her with lips and tongue, and she cried out. She was warm and wet, her flavor unique and familiar as always. He spent a few lazy minutes licking her, far away from rushing towards a finish line, and she surrendered to his rhythm, panting softly in the moonlit night.

When he moved upwards again, discarding her bra in the process, he found her eyes glazed and her cheeks flushed. Taking his face in both hands, she pulled him down, smiling into the kiss, as she found her taste on his lips.

"You want me to reciprocate the favor?" she whispered, and he smirked.

"I'm a guy, Bones. But... I also want _this_."

And with the knowledge of a man who had loved her many, many times before, he settled between her legs, tilting his pelvis and sinking into her snug heat. His eyes closed on a gasp.

"Fucking perfect," he muttered, and she nodded breathlessly, her head falling back into the pillows.

"I... I second that."

It was ridiculous how it always felt as if she was solely made for him, or he for her, but it did. It did. And with his forehead pressed to hers, he started to move, suggested a rhythm that she picked up. A slow movement that almost separated them, one blissful stroke that brought them back together. Her hands settled on the small of his back, right above his toned ass, and she knew that there were dimples underneath her palms, she had kissed them many times before – had kissed them just like she had kissed his inked wrists, his battered feet and every other inch of his perfect body.

She knew him so well, and before Booth, Brennan hadn't believed that knowledge like this could make sex better, but it did, it truly did. Or maybe it was just because she was so in love with him.

Heat was building, as he sped up, moving faster, deeper, harder, and she encouraged him with her whole being, meeting him thrust for thrust. Her skin was so pale against his, and the moonlight enchanted the moment even further, was their only witness, as they found an ancient kind of magic within each other.

With a cry that was his name, she tensed, shivers coiling in her belly, infecting him. Her eyes flew open, so blue, so unguarded, and he lost his breath, lost his senses and everything else as he came apart inside of her, riding that perfect wave with her.

-BONES-

People say love is not tangible. Once upon a time, this had scared her, but tonight, she found solace in it. It was the one thing nobody could take away from them.

His love, her love, their love – evil couldn't touch it.

The End.

_Thank you :-)_


End file.
